Roses are red My soul is black I am never getting My dad back
In fright, I saw my faceless soul! Never imagined it could run that fast!
I went to the National Redhead Meeting yesterday. Not a soul in sight.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Because the chicken had 4 chicks and a cheating hen who all sucked out all his money he got from his extremely boring job, and he finally got some peace for himself and was going to the local bar, which was on the other side of the road. He walked in the door, wings sagging, feathers catching on his claws. The bartender eyes him as he sits on a bar stool. “Chuck, how ya doin’? The missus doin’ good?” "Just give me the hardest stuff you got. I’m done." This caught the bartender by surprise. “Chuck, come on, don’t be sayin’ that. Just look to the future and you’ll be fine.” “What future?” Chuck replied in a huff. “My wife and chicks are so goddamn pestering sometimes, you know? But if I leave, they’ll all suffer, and I don’t want that either. Oh, God, Phil, I don’t know what to do.” “You know, you’ve got a good heart for a rooster your age,” Phil answered. "We need that in these parts. I’m tellin’ ya, there will be more than what’s happenin’ right now, ya know, life’s got all its gears turning for ya, and there’s just a bit slow right now. The gears haven’t been oiled in a while, but who’s the only one who can fix that?" Chuck knew the answer. "Me." Phil returned with his drink. "McClucken’s Whiskey, on the house." Chuck glanced at his glass. He held it up to the light. His face reflected in an aura around it, neither looking forward to the light and not backward, either. “No thanks, Phil,” Chuck sighed, "But thanks anyways." He went to get up out of his chair. Phil called as he walked out the door, "Just remember to oil the gears every now and then, eh?" Chuck’s comb flapped in a cool breeze brought in by the season. A bench was nearby, staring across to the other side. And he just sat there, sat there thinking. Cars blurred to a colorfully colorless nothingness as he thought in silence. He could see an open window in his mind, full of chickens: a sassy hen, two identical sportish chick; another, older than the two, and body bristling with blue comb-dye and the latest thing he watched online fresh on his Chickstagram page; finally, the first of the bunch, shy, bookish, with a secretly courageous soul. They all looked… worried, worried for the rooster who guided them, helped them grow, supported them… and all looking out of the window back at him. A single tear welled in Chuck’s eye. The chicken walked back across the road to his family, to his friends, and to the life he was content with.
A man was kneeling on the church floor, crying desperately in front of the large wooden statue of Christ. "My headphones are broken, Lord… I’m desperate… What should I do? Guide me!!" And the Lord appeared in the form of bright light, and the strong, deep voice filled the man’s soul. WELL BUY NEW ONES, YOU D...... And so he did.
Why was 6 afraid of 7?
Seven’s been worried about six even since he left Afghanistan. Every time 6 closes his eyes, he sees the war and hears the gunshots. He sees the blood, the killing, the death, and soldiers falling. When he looks at seven, he remembers when they were forced to eat their own flesh to not starve in those caves. He sees the war and the flashbacks will come back forever, burned into his soul and mind.
If I was an object in this world I’d be a glass! Because if you leave me when I’m too close to the edge I will likely shatter and break.
If I was a pizza topping I would be pineapple! Because everybody doubts me.
I’m a star! Because one of these days I’m going to crash and burn…
If I could choose what creature I come back as after I die I’d be a panda, because people would give a shit if I went extinct.
I’m like the sun; I’m painful to look at.
If I was a food I would be chopped liver because nobody likes me.
I’m like an eggshell… broken and empty.
If I was a mythical creature I’d be a unicorn! Because nobody believes in me.
I’m like a flashlight with old batteries inside because my inner light died a long time ago.
My soul is a raisin because it’s dried up shriveled, and not everyone likes it.
I’m like the moon because you only get to see one side of me.
I’m like the moon because as the month progresses my life becomes covered more and more by darkness.
I’m like an Ex streamly powerful fan! Because I push everyone away.
I’m like a disposable camera! People use me once and then just throw me away.
I’m like a shity book cover… because people think they have the right to judge and label me before they read my pages.
My brain and body is essentially a really old married couple that can’t afford to go through with the divorce and now they are stuck in a toxic relationship they are desperate to escape but the more they try the more they sink into the quicksand that is my depression and anxiety
Abner’s wife was laying on her death bed. She suddenly used all her strength to sit up and say to her husband, “I must tell you something, or my soul will never know peace. I have been unfaithful to you, Abner. In this very house, not one month ago.” “Hush, dear,” soothed Abner. “I know all about it. Why else have I poisoned you?”
How do turn a duck into a soul singer?
Put him in the microwave until his bill withers
A pair of souls were floating up to heaven when they passed a pair of eagles. Ah, eagles, said the souls. The eagles were too polite to say anything.
The dyslexic devil worshipper sold his soul to Santa
When other people tell a joke; 3/3 people laugh. When I tell a joke; 1/3 people laugh, but 2/3 people stare into my soul.